#i can read it pretty ok but i know that it's probably not legible for alot of people

[oh-so-negative]

Josh Silver Kerrang interview

[fractualized]

Time for a surprise The Man Who Stopped Laughing post! Here I was all mad that Jason disappeared in TMWSL #11, and then Rosenberg basically decided Gotham War: Red Hood #2 is a TMWSL side story with a lot I was not expecting!

I still hate that there's no effort at a legible timeline but all the surprises in this issue are helping me move past it. (OK I can't lie I'm always going to hate it at least lowkey.)

More thoughts:

So basically the Gotham War stuff is all happening before/during TMWSL #11 meaning the two Jokers were just hanging around Gotham for the two months Bruce was asleep I KNOW I SAID I'D STOP I'LL STOP. Jason strayed into Gotham War at first partly because of his search for Joker, asking the men Selina has recruited for clues about his location, but then he got more involved, enough that GW Red Hood #2 starts with Joker trying to find out where Jason is.

What an interesting turn!

The note does get to Jason, via a dead body (laid to rest by Scarecrow, not Joker).

Ohhh this is a twist. Last month in TMWSL, Ravager gave Manhunter a list of locations from Jason, places to look for Joker, and now we know they were provided by Joker himself?! Because he wants to make sure Jason finds him? And is probably plain insulted that someone who was pursuing him so single-mindedly suddenly stopped? hahaha

Jason says he'll meet up with Ravager in a couple days, but he misses his appointment because, as you may know, Zur-influenced Bruce decides to Clockwork Orange him so he'll feel debilitating fear whenever his adrenaline ratchets up. But Ravager isn't the only one who notices Jason's absence.

Joker did say back in the hospital in TMWSL that he might have plans for Jason, but I took that more as a taunt. I didn't know he actually was depending on Jason being around. (Though given the time jump, that could be a recently created plan.) Also, "Batman can't have him! I TOOK CUSTODY IN THE DIVORCE."

And look at Joker all ready to go with his hat! And the umbrella. The umbrella detail kills me.

It's also just really funny to me that like, sometimes Catwoman in Gotham War acts parental toward Jason. Here, Joker is intent on finding him. In the following pages, Harvey hears what happened to Jason and says Jason is "more one of us than he knows. And he's had a rough life because of that." And then Scarecrow comes upon Jason during a Missing Scene that takes place during Catwoman #58 when Jason tries to save a little girl from a fire...

Just when I'm laughing that Jason is everybody's blorbo, this happens.

MOMMY. Batman is Jason's Daddy, and Joker is Jason's Mommy. Oh my god. Rosenberg, you magnificent glowing sunrise.

Joker chases Scarecrow away like a disobedient cat with his squirtgun, and then turns back to Jason.

I think Grundy's pee could probably still ward Scarecrow off. Also is Joker mad Jason didn't tell his parents they have a granddaughter? :(

Joker again insisting Jason is important for his plans. Joker saying he's going to fix Jason, his "sweet boy." Is Joker of all people going to undo what Bruce did? That would be pretty hilarious, something to hang over Bruce's head later.

But whatever it is, it's not going to happen now, of course. Joker leaves Jason under the beam so the scene can play out as it does in Catwoman #58, in which Jason did not mention Scarecrow or Joker. I'm not sure if that's just because he still wants to take care of his own business or that he's not sure they were real.

I'm assuming all this means Jason will in fact appear in the TMWSL finale, though suddenly afraid of everything, which will be kind of weird for people only reading that story. Then again, maybe Bruce will end up fixing Jason himself in the last GW issue on Halloween, with how weird and inconsistent the GW writing has been.

Regardless, this particular issue was an unexpected delight, and it's boosted my assumption that the end of TMWSL #11 is a fakeout and this Joker is very much the real one. Too much would hit different in a bad way if he wasn't…

[idontknowreallywhy]

Estera - Ch 22 - Assist

Ok, time to find out exactly how squished she got?

Last one of these for a bit as I have to put this story back in its box and focus on that worryingly skeletal secret Santa fic in my notes…

What went before

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She unthinkingly dived into the road to retrieve the precious device and clutched it to her chest in relief. A squeal of brakes had her looking round just in time to see the bus plough into her and erase her from existence.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

…

That’s probably what would have happened, Estera told herself, as she knelt down to retrieve the crushed phone from behind the front wheel of the bus. She’d done the right thing. She couldn’t have saved it. Even so, she couldn’t help kicking herself. The bus had so nearly stopped in time but then the driver had kindly rolled forwards a few metres to better line up the door with where Estera was standing.

So close and yet…

She dragged herself to her feet and apologised profusely to the driver as she fished around in her bag for a credit card to pay with. Her annual public transport pass was, of course, stored on the phone along with pretty much everything else. Ticket acquired, she threw herself into a seat and curled up, her legs braced against the back of the one in front. She rested her head on her knees and tried to regulate her breathing. This was silly, it was just a thing. An inanimate object. She didn’t get attached to Things.

It was just that this one kind of had her new friend inside it.

The screen was completely shattered, but somehow the phone didn’t appear to be entirely dead - the message was displaying and by tilting it from one side to another she managed to read around the spiderwebbed cracks:

Can confirm that particular meteorological anomaly is also present in London 😮☀️ Also, hi! I’m free for a few hours, did you want to grab that coffee?

A photo was attached but with no touch screen control she couldn’t scroll beyond the top edge to view it… she only had blue sky and a hint of chestnut hair to go on.

Estera methodically tapped on every inch of the screen trying to make something respond but achieved nothing more than embedding a small shard of glass in her fingertip. She hissed and tried to suck it out, dropping her legs down and ticking them under her own seat as someone slipped into the one in front. She couldn’t help but remember the feeling of seeing her message had been read but no reply forthcoming and was filled with dread at what he might interpret her silence to mean.

“No no no no no I can’t mess this up again.” She growled in frustration.

The person in front swivelled round to face her. “Are you ok, Miss?”

It was the labradoodle guy from the beach. She nearly laughed at the irony that it would be the same person she’d hysterically accused Scott of hiring to follow her. His eyes widened as he recognised her and he smiled broadly:

“Oh, hello again!”

She smiled weakly and gestured at her phone “Hi. Sorry, just having a bit of a moment”

“Wow, and I thought mine was a mess.” He showed her a scratched and battered but intact device then held it out towards her “Do you need to call someone? You’re welcome to borrow it.”

A lifeline! She gushed incoherent thanks then paused with her index finger over the call screen. She didn’t know his number, why hadn’t she memorised his number? Because she wasn’t some hapless teenager with a crush that’s why. Nobody does that. Argh.

But wait… she rummaged in her bag for her wallet, hoping against hope she hadn’t thrown it away… Yes! The pet shop loyalty card she’d scribbled the emergency contact number on the back of when Scott dictated it over the phone that night. She’d tucked it back in there after saving the number to her contacts. She’d only needed one more stamp to get 10% off her next shop and with the amount Bez ate… the number was a little smudged, but legible.

Alright here goes. She dialled the number and a surprisingly cheery, singsong voice answered after the first ring:

“Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant direct line, how may I help you?”

Gosh she sounded young. Must be a recent school leaver. Estera briefly wondered how someone that junior could end up working for the Tracys.

“Hello, is that Dawn?”

“Good afternoon, Estera Hermaszewska, I am indeed Dawn, Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant.”

“H-how did you know it was me? This isn’t my usual, err, phone?”

There was a slight pause.

“A limited number of people have access to this number. As Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant I made an educated guess.”

“Oh, well, ah, ok that’s great. Um. So, hello Dawn, thank you for picking up the call. I wondered whether you could get a message to Scott for me?”

“Of course. What is the message you wish me, as Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant, to relay?”

“Thank you Dawn, he sent me a message but my phone just got broken and so I can’t reply to it and so…”

Frantic xylophone music interrupted mid-sentence and continued for half a minute or so before:

“I have relayed your message.”

“Oh, I err, thank you but I hadn’t quite finished.”

“In my capacity as his Personal Assistant I can certainly relay a second message to Scott Tracy.”

Definitely something unusual going on here. She didn’t sound incredibly experienced. Perhaps a family member? Maybe the poor kid was just working to a clumsily phrased script? Well, either way, Estera wasn’t going to make the girl’s job any harder by asking questions. She tried to keep her message brief:

“Please would you say I’d love to have coffee - I have a… commitment booked for a couple of hours but maybe he could meet me there and we could find a cafe afterwards? The location is…” she gave the details of the clifftop viewpoint carpark where she’d be meeting the rest of the group.

There was a brief pause then the xylophone music returned. Estera looked up at doodle guy and mouthed an apology, he gave a double thumbs up in return.

“I have made further contact and Scott Tracy has asked me to tell you he will be at the location you suggested within 60 minutes. He appears happy at the prospect of the meeting. Would you like me to connect you to his personal comm? Alternatively there are many other Personal Assistant tasks I am amply trained to perform?”

“Oh, thank you, ah no I should probably give this kind person their phone back but I will see him then. Thank you very much Dawn, it was nice to talk to you.”

“I am glad to have spoken with you too, Estera Hermaszewska.”

Estera hung up and breathed a sigh of relief, handing back the phone with a grateful expression. “Thank you so much, you saved me from a bit of a situation there.”

He smiled uncertainly. “He must be someone pretty special?”

“Oh, gosh, no! I mean, yes. He’s fantastic but we’re not… it’s not err… he’s a friend. Just a… an old friend. Well, ‘just’ is the wrong word really. Isn’t everyone special in their own way though? All of us unique and all with our own, err, specialities.”

The guy seemed faintly confused by her incoherent rambling but grinned anyway and put out his hand “I don’t think we ever did the name swapping thing - I’m Dave.”

She hesitantly reached out to shake the offered hand but he suddenly gasped and leapt to his feet.

“That was my stop, sorry!”

And he was gone, hurrying down the aisle.

She shivered and then mentally slapped herself. She really had to stop assuming the worst of friendly people.

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John watched his brother’s face light up as he realised he had a message from the girl… from Estera. Scott smirked and without warning dragged John to his side for a self portrait shot in which John looked aghast and Scott was pulling the kind of deranged face they would more usually expect from Alan or Gordon. He chuckled and began drafting a message. For a few moments John could have spontaneously combusted and it was unlikely his big brother would have noticed.

He had to acknowledge that in all the… Concern… he’d experienced surrounding Scott’s interactions with his new friend, for all his tracking of comms activity, asking EOS to correlate that with his heart rate and sleep data… he hadn’t actually spotted the impact on his brother at all. It wasn’t merely non-negative. He seemed… younger all of a sudden. Lighter. This was what Virgil had seen? John felt an uncharacteristic pang of regret for the usual physical distance between himself and his brothers. It seemed despite his best efforts he was still missing things.

“Scott, surely you’re not sending that picture are you?”

His brother grinned and with a flourish flicked the send button with the back of his index finger.

John groaned “Why would you do that?”

“It’ll make her laugh. I like making her laugh.” The tiniest crease appeared between his brows and a brief flicker of something unreadable passed over his face. Again John found himself both curious and apprehensive about the circumstances in which the two of them had first encountered each other.

It was somewhat ironic that the same person whose reappearance in his life had caused all that pain and confusion should have become a positive influence so quickly. For all Scott’s adamant denial that he had the slightest romantic intention, he was clearly already quite fond of her. John desperately hoped whatever this was going to be, an uncomplicated friendship or… anything else, that it was going to work out. It had to, he thought with grim determination. His breath caught as a memory intruded - his brother collapsed against him on the bedroom floor, sobbing in agony as his fever-ravaged mind tore itself apart. John would never forget the gut wrenching sound of Scott’s grief. He tightened his jaw and glanced over at the same man, now quietly smiling to himself. The universe owed his big brother a break and John would do everything in his power to ensure he got it.

“We’d better head back to Tracy Two and get you down to the Westcountry then. I’ll pop in on Penny and you can let me know when to come and pick you up.”

“I don’t know if she’s free yet. Slow down, Johnny.”

The “don’t call me Johnny” was a reflex of course but John barely knew he was saying it, being too busy reeling from the two words that preceded it. Two words he wasn’t sure the speed demon next to him had ever uttered together before without the word DON’T in front of them.

John looked down at the messaging app displayed on his brother’s comm, the one attaching the awful photograph had been delivered and read so, surely soon…

Scott swiped it closed and drained the rest of his cup. There was a silence as he ran a finger around the edge of the lid almost meditatively then he appeared to shake himself and, in a sudden movement, crushed it and swivelled to face his brother.

“So how’s Penny doing anyway? We’ve not seen her for a while.”

“Hello Scott”

They both jumped as a hologram of a familiar ring of lights popped out of Scott’s comm between them. John recovered first:

“EOS, is there a situation?”

“Oh, hello John. I have been acting as Scott Tracy’s Personal Assistant and I believe I have performed exceptionally.”

John raised an eyebrow at Scott who looked faintly bemused.

“Well done EOS. What did you do, exactly?”

“I received a call from Estera Hermaszewska and recorded a message for you.”

Comprehension dawned in Scott’s eyes followed by a forehead wrinkle of anxiety. Estera’s voice suddenly emerged from his wrist.

“Thank you Dawn, he sent me a message but my phone just got broken and so I can’t reply to it and so…”

It cut off abruptly and EOS disappeared.

“EOS! Wait!” Scott clapped a hand to his forehead and John sighed:

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

“It was you who suggested it, John!”

“That may technically be true but short of you almost dying on live television I didn’t think she’d actually need to use it!”

“Now what?”

“I’ll try to raise EOS again, give me a second.”

Before John could raise his own comm. EOS reappeared and exclaimed excitedly:

“I have a second message for Scott Tracy from Estera Hermaszewska”

“EOS, wait, once you’ve played it would you stay with us so I can send a message back?”

“Of course, Scott.”

They could hear background chatter and then Estera clearing her throat awkwardly before

“Please would you say I’d love to have coffee - I have a… commitment booked for a couple of hours but maybe he could meet me there and we could find a cafe afterwards? The location is…”

John pulled up a map showing the highlighted postcode and Scott squinted at it then beamed

“Looks like about half an hour’s drive from Dunkeswell Airfield. Can you drop me there and I’ll pick up a hire car?”

“Is that the message I should relay, Scott?”

“No! Err no, could you say I’ll be there in about an hour?”

EOS disappeared again.

“Why don’t I just drop you in the field at the top of the cliff there? Last time I checked Tracy Two’s VTOL was working just fine?”

“No. I’d rather drive. I don’t want to use the plane… she doesn’t… it might… I mean…” his brother looked flustered “I don’t want to be all ‘check me out with my private jet’ when she could be with friends or something.”

John took a moment to contemplate what must be the first time in history Scott Carpenter Tracy didn’t want to be associated with an aircraft.

“I just want to keep it low key.”

“Good plan. However, have you considered what you’re wearing?”

Scott looked down at the dark blue three-piece Italian custom-made suit his TI EA had handed him that morning… was it Borrelli this time? John hadn’t been paying enough attention to be sure. As the token younger Tracy in the room it didn’t matter much what he wore, but as CEO, Scott had a certain image to maintain and Jennifer curated his office wardrobe with a somewhat terrifying zeal.

“Do you want to head back to the office and fetch your casual stuff?”

“Nah, someone will spot me and need something, we’ll get stuck there for hours. I left a sweater in Tracy Two, that’ll do.”

“Alright then Prince Charming, your carriage awaits.”

Scott cuffed him round the back of the head. John responded by ruffling his big brother’s perfectly styled hair and running away, chuckling as the man squawked in horror and chased after him.

“You are worse than Gordon, Johnny, I swear!”

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[ncon29]

Helvetica - The Documentary

The Rise, Flatline, and Fall of the Modernist Movement's Darling Poster Child

Name: Helvetica (Die Neue Haas Grotesk) Parents: Max Miedinger and Eduard Hoffmann Nicknames: "Perfection" / "Ubiquitous" / "Air" / "Ultimate Typeface"

1950’s - post-war period - feeling of idealism

Social responsibility for designers

More democracy, clarity, rebuilding

Early experiments of High Modernist period - Swiss style

1957 - HELVETICA IS BORN !!! - rational typeface for all kinds of information to present ideas in intelligible/legible way - loud and clearly modern

Interesting that early modernism (dadaism, futurism, surrealism) was more subversive and that functionality emerged later

Would you use Helvetica in your designs?

I don't have particularly strong feelings toward it. Jonathan Hoefler says "it's like off-white paint" and many of the other designers in the documentary say it's like air. It's just there. I would use it if it matches the look that I'm going for, but I typically prefer more expressive typefaces - I'd probably manipulate the original form, at least. It's ubiquitous, versatile, and functional, sure, but why would I use it when there are so many other typefaces. Bit corporate. Bit SnoozeVille.

Like Rick Poynor put it (regarding designing with Helvetica over a period of time), “There’s a law of diminishing returns”. More exposure -> more use by designers -> more predictability -> uh oh it's dull now.

No flavour is the point but that doesn't mean I have to love it.

It's ok but why limit yourselfffff (to one type family). I guess to push your ideas as a designer. But experimenting outside that seems more fun to me. Some people favour restrictions though, so to each their own.

My view leans towards that of Erik Spiekerman (Gemini King), who says “[Type] just makes my words visible” and that “A real typeface needs rhythm, needs contrast; It comes from handwriting. That’s why I can read your handwriting, and you can read mine. And I’m sure out handwriting is miles away from Helvetica… But we can read it because there’s rhythm to it, there’s a contrast to it.” Obviously, you can't always read handwriting, but personally I'm pretty good at it and find it much more compelling than consistent, uniform typefaces. Spiekerman on letters designed to look the same: "Hello??? You know, that’s called an army. That’s not people.” This sentiment is interesting and appeals to me, because I like it when type has personality, as it's a means for social communication -- informed by people. Then again, uniformity is just another style. But, I personally like when you can tell that a human being made something with heart and intention, and if you can do that with Helvetica, then knock yourself out ig. Michael C Place expresses that though he doesn't know the fancy type terminology, he values the emotional response that type can bring and enjoys "the challenges of making Helvetica speak in a different way”. I can admire that idea: Originality with Helvetica depends on execution.

I do like how the designers in the doco describe the typeface in regard to the space between characters as opposed to the space that the characters fill. Mike Parker says “It’s not a letter that’s bent to shape; It’s a letter that lives in a powerful matrix of surrounding space”. The negative space is said to contain the characters which is an effective, formidable way to put it. Similarly, Massimo Vignelli says "typography is really white" which I find to be a refreshing perspective.

Would you use Helvetica for one context (type of work/audience) but not another?

Yes, as long as it suits the content, my vision/the client's vision. It would not be my first choice unless I was going for that neutral look, modernist style, or just maximising attention to the actual text, rather than its appearance.

Not as passionate about this topic as some designers involved in the documentary but it's fun/ny to watch them talk about it with such vigour.

____________________________________________________________

Michael Bierut: “In Helvetica. Period. Any questions? Of course not”

Wim “Gridnik” Crouwel:

“But if I see today's designers, they use all typefaces-one day one typeface, the other day the other typeface, all in favor of a certain atmosphere, I'm not... I don't like that... The meaning is in the content of the text, not in the typeface.”

Why must the meaning derived from either or be mutually exclusive ? Surely both the content and typeface can be used to amplify the message. It's about feeling and communication. Typefaces are just tools. Ricky P says type gives words "a certain colouring" which conveys a sense of a ranging intensity.

Paula Scher: "I was also morally opposed to Helvetica because I viewed the big corporations that were slathered in Helvetica as sponsors of the Vietnam War." <- Personal, moral implications.

Massimo Vignelli: thinks postmodernism is a DISEASE

Tobias Frere-Jones: Type Expression = important

“The same way that an actor that's miscast in a role will affect someone's experience of a movie or play that they're watching. They'll still follow the plot, but, you know, be less convinced or excited or affected.”

David Carson

“Don’t confuse legibility with communication.” I agree.

“If something is a very important message and it’s set in a boring, non-descript way, the message can be lost.” I neither agree nor disagree. Depends on execution.

Questions:

Why are there so many Michaels?

How was Erik's birthday?

Why do I prefer this typeface to Helvetica? It's cuter.

✋︎ ⬥︎♋︎■︎⧫︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎❍︎ ❍︎♓︎⌧︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ❍︎♓︎■︎♑︎●︎♏︎ ♌︎♏︎♍︎♋︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♌︎♏︎ ♐︎◆︎■︎■︎⍓︎ ✏︎

[jamiekb]

more things that i loved (and got to explore) from the Welcome home update

i had already made a post about my first thoughts and stuff, this is just me playing around again

More things!!!:

ok so the 'you' section in the neighborhood now has a little heart. huh i think that's the first time his voice is so distorted in the audios

oh my god even on their illustration page, on the welcome home section, clown changed the banner. looks so cool!!!

hey the telephone was part of the original concept art!!

now forth with the secrets that people have been so kind as to share

finally get the last video. there's something about barnabys voice that just doesnt let me pay attention to what hes saying, maybe its just too calm. that definitely has a different tone from the others at the end, you good Wally??

now past the password page

why is the banner called sneezing??

ok now i get why they say the question answerer went insane

probably nothing but i do find it funny that the 'it's in here' text gives you the 404 page. also are you calling Wally it?

so he can just communicate with people involved in the project i guess??? i do love that he just cant write in a normal way, still the name of a picture

can you not touch ink then?? or just like in general any of the material from Welcome Home???

Frank my dear! from the art in Clown's portafolio, didn't actually expect to see it in the page

more stuff to read! but it's too far away :(

is the question answerer the one that's.. you know.. asking the questions?

more emails!!! ok so you definitely dont touch it and you have to check it then. who is sending these??? im confused. and of course its not alarming to handle material from lost media and then have symptoms like nausea or fatigue, totally normal thing to experience

so im guessing for some of these pictures you have to play with exposure and stuff, some seem near legible

the little vault! i know it's scary but it's so small!!! and Wally from the portafolio!

another shot of the one where wally writes

you can sort of see the script! is it the one we had already seen?

who is sorry??? i just get more confused, need to go back to the exhibition page

back to the audios. I only got four the first time around (i, will, a, i-2), so it'll be nice to hear the rest

nevermind i didnt write down some that i did find (help, you-1, will-2, find). this is why 3am when you're tired is not the best time to do this. and of course the return of 'Neighbor', the angry vynil

pretty sure i hadn't heard 'understand' (some light distortion, interesting), 'way' (sorry darling, no can do, that was a weird way to request that) and 'soon' (creepy, not a fan)

back to the merch page. oh yeah you can click on the red button, why didn't i notice that? creepy and cool audio, not the duet i was expecting, it really is wallys part of the phone thing. again mentioning that we have looked into his eyes. Home says something? what is the work i have to do Wally??? are you just directly speaking to the question answerer?

[mortellanarts]

Doodle dump of the Kurashiki siblings in a bunch of different outfits because I think about them every single day of my life

(Self indulgent explanation of my thought process for each and every one of these under the cut!)

Okay, the veeery first one I'm just calling a header since it's the third drawing with more color so I can use it to keep my friends spoiler free on other platforms, I'll be ignoring it when saying "first" "second" yadda yadda it doesn't count okay akdhsk

Yes the actual first one is a twewy crossover where Akane's composer and Aoi's her conductor! It wasn't my idea and I don't like thinking about the logistics of that whole scenario, I just really really wanted to draw the cool wings and fashionable outfits and it is yet another way to frame their dynamic that really grabbed my attention. Here's a version without wings too!!

Ok, the second one was the first thing on this file, I was just in a mood™ from thinking about their dynamic in the canon divergent post second nonary game headcanons I have in my head, really wanted to draw Akane in a hair bun and Aoi with an inverted color scheme too, but yeah the idea was each of them off to do their thing and venting about each other, probably to Junpei and Light but I gave up on adding details to the scenario and nearly scrapped it, it's only here because that post about sketchy and scribbly art made it's way to my dash and made me go y'know what I like this as is

Third one was just because I saw this one hairband at the store and immediately thought of Aoi wearing it and couldn't get it out of my head until I drew it, turned it into him and Akane wearing party looks while doing recon or something, Akane ends up feeling uncomfortable with showing skin despite having asked for help picking the clothes out herself, I also really liked how she looks in this her hair turned out super pretty

The last two full body ones are the outfits I imagined for my fics!! I wasn't sure about posting it cause I like to let people imagine whatever they want but I still personally needed to get it out of my head, especially when I started thinking of all the headcanons for the notes, which aren't terribly legible I am sorry for that, like Akane with shorter hair because she had a fit of Not Feeling Fully There and cut a chunk of it off herself to feel like she could still affect things and also fully knowing she has enough time for it to grow back past her shoulders again, and Aoi having pierced his ear himself just out of boredom or discontentment or something, those two things could be smaller fics in on themselves so I needed to draw it, and that was all for the pre second nonary game fic I made!!

The pre vlr one I only drew anything for because I tried before and didn't enjoy the result, so I very impulsively tried my hand at it again

So yeah that's that! I also made a little comic strip alongside these that I'll post shortly, I genuinely love these outfit drawings two so much, thank you for reading my rambles qwq

[maiverie]

i have a question -- how did you end up getting so much engagement on your first posts? was it more gradual or sudden, and do you have any tips for new writers that are not getting as much attention on their posts?

hi anon!! UM OK i'm very very very flattered and kinda surprised you think my posts get that much engagement (honestly there are sm accs that are much bigger than mine!), but thank u sm for reaching out!! I'm really happy to help so here are my thoughts ^^

I feel like there are two ways you can categorise tumblr engagement as a writer: notes and feedback. if by "first posts" you mean the first fics I posted on this acc, I wouldn't say they did all that well with the note count, but I was really really satisfied with the amount of feedback I got back! stuff like comments/replies, asks, text rbs etc. etc. if you want your work to get notes, i.e. you want a lot of exposure, I would suggest posting things that most people like to see/read (for example, things like headcanons, drabbles, smaus, popular tropes, popular members, etc.). it's not going to be a surefire way to get a lot of notes (because obviously there's a lot more to it), but posting things that people are familiar with — whether that's a trope, a member, or a format — will increase the likelihood that they'll engage with your content. there are a lot of people that have a subset of things they like to read (and will always go back to it), and there are fewer people who like to venture out into the unknown.

you've probably seen a lot of writers talk about the whole "like to feedback ratio" where many authors are seeing discrepancies between the two. for example, a fic of theirs might get 300 likes and only have 5 people reblog it with text or something. I think authors talk about this a lot because, at least in my personal experience, the number of notes doesn't really mean much if there isn't any other feedback to accompany it. my point is that you could write a bunch of headcanons or smaus or whatever and get a bunch of notes from it and still feel unsatisfied if you don't receive proper feedback.

based on my experience, the amount of feedback I receive from my writing is proportional to how much effort I put into it. there's like a drabble that I spent one night on which didn't do that great in terms of note count or feedback/rbs, but there are series/fics I've spent hours and hours writing for which I received a lot of feedback. purely based on my experience, I would really really recommend that you pour your heart and soul into your fics and let your hard work shine through. this might seem a little blunt, but if your writing is decent, your grammar isn't totally botched, and the plot makes sense — you will do just fine :) also, people naturally give feedback only if there's something they can react to — take a look at your stories and think about whether or not there's something for readers to talk about when they rb. did something really heartwarming or shocking happen? are one of the characters funny as fuck? is the plot so toe-curling that readers can't help but scream about it? if you're struggling to have people talk about your fic, you need to give them more reasons to.

overall, I would say my acc has been pretty steady with growth. I noticed a spike when I posted my first smau (because, like I said, a lot of people like to read smaus) but even then, I didn't really care for it because I wasn't really getting the quality feedback that I had with my other stories. I hope the above answers your first two questions ^^ if you'd like any clarification, let me know!

general tips for writers who aren't getting as much attention on their posts:

make sure your layout/presentation is legible and eye-catching. make sure it looks good in both dark and light mode and that the fic's title + main idol member + general vibe/genre (for example, romcom or horror or whatever else) is obvious at first glance

pay attention to the grammar in your stories! read it again and again and make sure there aren't sentences that run off too long or seem too jarring

cut up your paragraphs and make sure they're not too lengthy — I would say anything more than 25 lines is probably going to make some people lose interest

reply to the people that engage with your posts and show genuine appreciation for them — nobody is ever obligated to give you feedback, so I think responding to everything you get and just being very open in general will make people feel more comfortable interacting with you

think about the structure of your fic: if it's a long fic, then ofc the word count doesn't really matter. but if it's a series, make sure your chapters don't run too long or too short. I don't have a lot of experience writing smaus so I can't really comment on them — but ig my advice is to make sure every update has at least one funny joke (with the obvious exception, like if it's an angsty smau or smth idk).

I feel like the stories that stick with me the most, i.e. the ones that are the most memorable, are ones that have their own little twist. you're more than welcome to write popular tropes, but from a reader's perspective, I would say putting your own little spin on them would probably result in more engagement / interest in ur story ^^

apparently (idk if this is true) only the first five tags are the ones that matter, so make sure they're the most popular tags !!

join some networks!! they’re run by amazing amazing people who literally rb your work for free :) u might even meet new friends !!

@.goldenhypen made a survey that actually shares really really interesting insights! stuff like who the most popular member is and what tropes most people seem to like. have a read through it!! it might help!!

I hope this helps anon! again, I'm very very very positive there are other users you can ask and they'll probably be more qualified to give advice TT nevertheless im wishing u all the best w ur blog!!!! u got this!!!!!

[literaticat]

I have a question about Shun manuscript format. I am a Disabled author, and it is difficult to get the particulars correct, like starting the manuscript half way down the page, for example. As long as the important bits are correct, 12 PT. Times New Roman, Double Spaced, chapters starting on new pages, indents in all the correct places, do those particulars really matter? How far can I veer from Shun format but keep the industry happy?

Well, for what it's worth, I had never heard of that, so... (I looked it up, if other readers are also are unfamiliar and want to know.)

This format is perfectly correct, yes. But also, anything that comes even close to that is correct. And also, there is no "correct", actually. A paradox!

At the end of the day, if your manuscript is going to get taken on by an agent / sold to a publisher, it will be edited, re-edited, copyedited and finally, professionally formatted within an inch of its life. You don't need to stress that hard about the formatting at THIS stage. You just need to get it read.

We NEED it to be legible, which ideally means a clean and simple 12-point font such as Times New Roman, double spaced, with normal margins. (But if it is some other legible font - that's also fine. Some people like Courier. Courier makes me want to die, I can't read it easily at all -- but I can also *change it* so.... eh.)

We NEED to know what it is and who you are, so ideally, you have a title page before the manuscript starts that has the title and your info, OR, you put your info and the title at the top of the first page, as in the Shunn example. (Where and how you get us this info is not the most important thing - HAVING THE INFO ON THE MS is the most important thing.)

Bonus: It would be great if there were actual chapter breaks between chapters.(But also, if there aren't -- OK? As long as we can TELL it's a new chapter -- because it's on a new page, or there's a significant space and then the chapter heading, or SOMETHING, we'll be able to figure it out!)

Bonus: It would be nice if there was a header or footer with page number and info -- some designation of what the book is on each page after the first one -- so if we print the ms out and then drop the whole thing down the stairs in the subway, we can put it together in order again. (But also, that's pretty unlikely to happen, so... whatever!)

The Shunn example is absolutely normal and perfect -- what you probably learned in middle school about how to format a paper is absolutely normal and perfect -- your own way is likely just fine, too, as long as it is within shouting distance of those normal ways.

[chanstopher]

hello dreamy; hope you’re well ❤️ we’re pretty similar in some aspects :o i love making gfx the most too since it’s something i wish to be good at + pairing fonts, figuring out colour palettes and executing ideas in the form of a graphics really is challenging but also super rewarding! i draw from time to time as well and i really love doing it, but since i rarely ever not draw from a reference or change things ever so slightly, it’s not something that tickles my imagination as much as a gfx would hehe since i usually have to readjust colourings or sometimes colour from scratch, i really like giffing too! but it’s probably the most mundane out of all of them since there’s nothing much different about the process dkfjdj oh, you’re absolutely fine! a good friend is like a seasoned professional when it comes to typos, and i’ve finally mastered decoding 90% of what she says… reading through your posts is like a calming breeze after talking to her—no missing words, random exclamations or extra letters 😂 but i think it’s a charming point for her too; i immediately know it’s her when i receive a text that butchered up! the whole biasing thing reminds me of a mutual of mine :D she’s always confused on who her bias is and ends up biasing the one member who is a complete opposite of her initial bias so we joke around by predicting who her bias will be once she starts getting into a new group. what’s your favourite hair colour on chan (and/or binnie haha) + what are some things that you associate with him? (i apologize for the late ask as i have been struggling with tumblr for the past couple of days ^^;) - 🌨

i'm gonna put a cut cause this is long

Hi my lil rain cloud, omg yes there’s just so much you can do with gfx, its a constant learning curve, and it’s so full of experimentation that its just always so fun. I’ve always been tempted to open up requests for gfx but its so hard to think of how to get ppl to send stuff that would actually inspire me. The best I’ve done is someone randomly sent me an ask for a gfx with Minho and they asked if it could be yellow and it ended up being a lot of fun to try to do, the request was so vague it was easy to be completely creative.  I also cannot draw unless I have a good reference, it’s like I can picture something so perfectly in my mind but the second my pen touches paper or tablet I suddenly can’t figure out how to proportion anything. But if I have something to constantly look at and compare myself to I can match it pretty well. But I agree gifs feel easy most of the time in comparison, unless I’m trying to recolor something nightmare inducing like purple stage lighting, or making things extra fancy by basically turning gifs into gfx. Giffing is a good hobby for watching tv or something, because it’s just a constant process so I can pay enough attention to the tv to know what’s happening while also cranking out sets, so I like that about it. I’m glad my grammar issues are at least legible, just lots of random commas that I hope are remotely ok lmao

Omg red is definitely my favorite hair color on Chris, like all time, I think the more ppl hated it the more I loved it, was obsessed with it. It just felt so punk, and then it faded to a pretty pink and I was happy all over again lmao. I also really loved the highlighted brown during double knot, that was such a gorgeous color and I think it really suited his skin tone a lot. I’m partial to blonde binnie, like ex or all in that was SUCH a gorgeous color on him, I do wish he got to do more fun colors tho, he’s said a few times he wants pink hair and I think changbin should get what he wants lol

Things I associate with Chris, omg does everything count or does that just really bring out the loser in me lmao but fr space, the ocean, oversized clothing, skateboarding, wolves obviously, the 🤙🏻 emoji, Pokemon, puppies, those thick silver chain necklaces lol, I will stop this will get embarrassing gdhgd

[seabagles]

Ok welcome to

How to reference a song in your fanfic

A Ted talk by me

If the lyrics in question don't have an active roll to play in the scene do not include them. (ie. The lyrics actively state something going on between characters or some other such that you DO NOT INTEND to actively write yourself)

Instead site the name and/or artist of the song itself. If the song is not well known but the artist is put in the artist. If the song is well known, whether or not the artist is, you could probably leave off citing the artist. (If there are two well known songs with the same or similar names or the song is less well known than another with the same or similar name cite the artist).

If you are going to put the artist and song title in your fic WRITE IT IN LINE WITH THE TONE OF YOUR FIC. Fiction isn't an essay you don't necessarily have to cite it in mla format. You can say the artist's name put an apostrophe s on that bitch (if the artist's name ends in an s say the possessive form out loud if your pronounce the second s write it, if not, don't) say the title and move on. It will flow better than mla formating that bitch.

If you feel that the song is truly so unknown to YOUR SPECIFIC READERS (note that plenty of fandom exists on spotify if the song is in a lot of playlists relevant to your readers it does not count as unknown) note in that moment with an asterisk or a parenthetical (In the end chapter notes) and then link the song there.

You should link the song (literally) with full title and artist name in the end notes anyway

If a specific stanza stands out as important to the scene this is a good place to write those specific lyrics as well

Refrain from putting the full song in your fics if at all possible

If you are going to put actual lyrics in for any reason format them differently than the rest of your writing. You want them to bring meaning make it look (visually on the page) like they matter. Again FICTION IS NOT AN ESSAY don't cite them like an essay - it's really hard to read. Canter them, start a new line when the lyrics do. Make it pretty and more legible so that your reader knows their meaning actually matters in the moment.

If the intention of the whole fic is to tie into a song: link the song in the notes at the beginning of the fic so that your readers can listen to it before or while reading. And while formatting the lyrics emphasize that poetic look for them. Presumably you are using them for their poetry, let your readers really revel in them, maybe give an empty line between each lyric to really set them apart. Here also, to the best of your ability, don't mention the song itself in your writing. If the characters are listening to the song for the whole of the fic one mention is really all you need. Tempo and general mood are ok but use them sparingly as possible. If it's more viginette style, mention the song only if the characters are listening to it again as little as possible (I'll trust your judgment here)

If your fic is very song forward like the above but it has multiple songs for whatever reason use the written lyrics sparingly and Link all the songs at the beginning of the chapter (preferably in the order they are used, Link a playlist on spotify perhaps really give your readers the feel.

Songs are a really subtle way to tall about something in an audio/visual media but it doesn't translate well to fiction. You have to translate it properly for it to have the same effect. Truly no matter how subtle you think your song scenes are I usually get all the relevant subtext by skipping it entirely. Especially when the lyrics are followed up by dialog that is just the characters actively referencing the song and saying why it's right or wrong. If you don't think that a pure paragraph of you describing their feelings while they stare at each other while dancing to a slow song will get the thought across give them some dialog. Lyrics (Especially when written in mla goddamned slash format) are a very heavy handed way to signal emotional turmoil or change. Plus it's truly not a great way to give credit to the artist. Linking the song actively and only mentioning their name and the title of the song is better because then you can send listeners their way and run a lower risk of taking people out of the writing.

Tldr: put in your chapter notes (beginning or end) an actual link to the song you feel the need to reference. Reference the songs by title and artist alone in the actual fic if at all possible and don't format the title artist or lyrics like it's an essay 1. The slashes are hard to read and 2. It isn't an essay it's fiction the rules are bendy.

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳who cursed the bludger? ♡

in which the reader's dominant hand is injured badly after a rogue bludger slams into it and none other than fred weasley is behind it. who cursed the bludger?

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ± 2k

tw: serious injury, a little bit of swearing

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. penny clearwater

who cursed the bludger?

y/n was currently draped lazily over her broomstick, haven given up trying to teach penelope clearwater how to fly. said prefect was on the grass, smirking as y/n embarrassedly looked around.

"penny that's not ok to ask!"

"fine, fine," she pondered for a moment, "hey, what's up with you and fred weasley, huh?"

"nothing at all," y/n answered a little too quick for penny's liking.

"c'mon, y/n, you're younger than me, i should know all that happens. you two are very...flirty."

"yeah well, my dear pennysylvania, we have flirty personalities. duh."

"no, you don't."

"okay, i don't. he does."

"but he seems like he means it."

"of course he means it? he says it in a joking way? y'know, he means it as a joke."

"hmm, nope, i don't think so, y/n. he's looking your way right now."

"i'm probably blocking the space, let's move outta the way."

"you're not gonna play with them?"

"already play in matches, why now? let's chat."

fred was silently eavesdropping on their conversation as he heard his name.

"sooo you and perceeee??" y/n dragged out, grinning as she did loop-do-loops with her broomstick.

penny blushed, but looked disappointed, "he likes oliver."

"oh. well, f percy, what about marcus??"

"he's just marcus. we're best friends, y/n."

"my fav trope of romance is best friends to lovers," y/n wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and penny shook her head in amusement.

"my one is the opposites attract."

"hmm yeah, that's a good one too, it's really cute! say, aren't you and mar-"

"i was meaning you!"

"huh?"

"you and fred."

fred smirked as he listened, flicking back the bludger harshly at angelina.

"oh yes because we are totally meant for each other," y/n sarcastically replied.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"yes."

"you're doing this on purpose!"

"hmm? what?"

"oh my goodness, merlin you're stupid bro!" penny said exasperatedly.

"and you just realised. congrats, penny."

"anyway, what i'm saying is you and fred are rather like opposites. although he's extroverted and you're extroverted, you're a cute little nerd," y/n huffed at this 'i am n o t a nerd for the last time!' "and he's a class clown in the most charming way. you like reading and he likes pranking people and quidditch. you're a goody two shoes, an adorable one, but he's this foolish jock," penny looked proud with her argument so y/n laughed, "you're modest and he's very confident. and you're both hot."

y/n smiled, "i am not hot!" she giggled, "that's stupid."

"oi, ange!" penny called to angelina who looked over at her in amusement.

"yeah?"

"is y/n hot?"

"oh, totally!" angelina casually threw the quaffle into the hoop, "10/10."

"guyyys you flatTer me," y/n stretched out as the three of them laughed, "i'm bLushIng."

"you actually are," angie quipped.

"it's a command thing. if she wants to blush, she'll blush," replied penny.

they burst into giggles again.

fred watched y/n. a rosy pink, sure enough, had spread across her cheeks. that was enough to get her blushing?

"oi, l/n!"

y/n's head snapped his way, her eyes narrowed as if expecting an insult being thrown her way.

"your lips are pretty!"

her form relaxed, "thanks! yours are too!!"

penny giggled as angie rolled around laughing.

"what?" y/n looked around.

"the way you return flirting is hilarious."

"a compliment for a compliment, isn't that what they say?"

angelina snorted, "no one says that."

"oh well i say it, so deal with it."

"hey, i have an idea!" penny brightened up.

"let's hear it!"

"let's teach y/n pick up lines, ange!"

"oh you're a genius, penny!"

"okay, so-"

a bludger came whizzing at y/n as she screamed, trying frantically to dodge it. it hit her hand and a crack was heard.

luckily she immediately hopped off calmly, taking out her wand shakily and stunning the bludger, before penny and angie helped her over to the hospital ward, fred lagging guiltily behind.

she was ordered to stay in bed rest and with drowsy eyes she drifted off.

fred watched her feeling so terrible as he saw her heavily bandaged hand, imagining how he was going to tell her that he was in fact the one that had charmed it.

the next day, she was out and about, gently cradling her hand which was broken.

"um, hey, y/n," he nervously approached her.

"oh, hello!"

"i might have jinxed the bludger to go wild," he confessed abruptly, "i'm really sorry i didn't mean to-"

"no, it's fine, really." she gave him a reassuring smile and walked off.

he noticed that she couldn't write in class. usually she was scribbling away, but she just sat awkwardly at her desk, trying frantically to get anything legible down with her non-dominant hand. the fact she was so courteous and forgiving about everything just made it worse.

by now, y/n was dying inside. she couldn't write notes, and even though she wanted to ask any willing person for a duplicate of their notes, she'd have to explain the whole broken hand thing.

"ange?"

"yep?"

"do you have history of magic notes?" y/n did puppy eyes.

"nope, you forgot i dropped out."

"oh."

"do you want mine?" fred asked, smirking as he looked y/n up and down.

"you take notes?!!!" y/n was shook.

"only for you, 'cause i felt bad."

"you didn't need to!"

"i did. you want them?"

"yes please, thank you so much, you're a lifesaver!!"

"you're acting like you're not the one the bludger hit," angie quipped and y/n frowned, completely forgetting fred was still there, browsing the notes.

"c'mon, it was just an accident. and i've always wanted to be ambidextrous."

"lovely, you were struggling. i'll take all your notes. my handwriting isn't neat but i owe you."

y/n ducked to hide the light blush she could not control at all.

immediately she got a confused look from fred.

and instantly she thought of something that might make the blush go away. he didn't mean it, it slipped out, she thought and she felt her face cooling down, a slight frown appearing on her face.

"o-okay, thanks fred."

"no problems, darling," he flirted.

"that's good, darling," she flirted graciously back, bravely tilting her head up and looking him in the eye.

he took it well.

"where did you learn how to flirt so well, my little love??"

"why, freddie," she joked flirtatiously, "from you of course!"

he coughed and excused himself.

"he should really be careful with who he's flirting mindlessly with," y/n rolled her eyes.

angelina laughed, "flirting mindlessly? do you see the way he looks at you?"

"personality," y/n stated simply.

"or not."

true to his word, notes in fred's flurry of handwriting appeared neatly stacked every day. they were far too thorough and consisted of stupid flirty notes by the side. sometimes a little note, written in class, was jammed in there probably by accident:

hello freddie!

i have a crush on you 0-o, hogsmeade at 7pm on sunday?

-jamie <3, boy who sits in front of you in arithmancy

jamie,

i already have my eye on someone :) not you, sorry, y/n cringed at the bluntness of his words

you are very nice, perhaps try trera rivera if you swing that way? or illinois ann if you swing all ways?

oh i'm so sorry, i didn't know that! i'll talk to both. was the gracious answer

-jamie

and again! the lucky boy! this time from a girl.

weasley-

i know we hate each other but give me a chance to explain myself? broom closet at 9 tomorrow ? it trailed off to something that y/n didn't even want to think about.

k.o

fuck off. i don't fucking like you, i like someone else, ffs.

was the reply as y/n laughed and made sure to give the note back to fred.

it wasn't everyday someone confessed to you, right?

she underlined all the words that simply weren't legible to ask fred about.

and aNOTHER ONE?? how did this boy have so many admirers? y/n had received 0 love letters from any boy, let alone people of the same gender. you knew you were good with the ladies (and the gentlemen) when everyone sent you these letters.

dearest frederick-

it droned quite sweetly on about him and loving him and the writing was really magnificent.

margaret perrer

hi marg

i'm really really sorry. you seem like such a nice person, and it's not you, it's me. i, however, have a friend who really adores you: kenneth. he'll be an amazing friend and maybe more.

i also already am interested in another girl, so it really isn't you. thank you for your beautiful letter, hopefully we can be friends!

fred

oh he was very nice. feeling like she had overstepped the boundaries, she put them aside, discovering more and more but putting them all in a stack. she felt slightly insecure, especially when they all looked relatively neW?? the perfume on the flowers still smelled fresh?? who was this guy?

she sighed, finishing her read through and being thoroughly impressed with the sheer quality of the notes.

but there were around 100 words she had underlined. she skipped down into the great hall where she spotted two gingers. as soon as one (she couldn't see which one) saw her, he got up, whispered to the other something, and left.

when she approached the one that was left behind, she saw it was george.

"hi georgie!" she greeted him and thrust the papers into his hand, "where's fred?"

george shrugs, "left, for a date or something."

"oh, okay, could you translate these for me, the underlined words?" if y/n was disappointed, she didn't show it.

"oh yeah, sure, his handwriting's rubbish, isn't it."

"yes it is, i can barely read half of it."

george finished scribbling words next to the underlined ones.

"oh! and give these back to him? i'm pretty sure he dropped them in, probably got mixed up." she gave him the pile of letters, now neatly bundled in rope she had found.

"oh, yeah sure," george smirked, "of course."

"nice, well that's it, thanks for the help!"

"anything else?"

"tell fred good luck."

"right, right, mhm."

"yea."

once she'd left, george took out his walkie talkie.

"got that, freddie?"

"crystal clear."

"you're pining, pffft, hahahahah," george smirked as fred sighed.

"it didn't even work?"

"which plan?"

"the one to drop the letters in."

"i'm pretty sure she read like two, she didn't seem that disappointed?"

"exactly."

"you're an idiot. just tell her."

"but that's boringggg."

"well drop the hints then, merlin fred you're terrible at this."

"i haven't dated a billion girls like you!"

"then learn how to date my goodness."

"true."

"come fucking back."

"hickies or no?"

"eh go for it. i wanna see her reaction and then we can decide whether she likes you or not."

fred strided handsomely in, neck littered with little hickies and his top had two buttons open, freckles and pale broad shoulders showing.

george rolled his eyes, muttering, "drama queen," as he subtlely watched y/n. she managed not to look so surprised, her eyes widening then looking down quickly at her hands.

he would have thought she felt nothing for his twin if a light pink had not dusted over her face and if angie had not nudged her with a concerned look on her face.

y/n was wondering what the hell happened, disappointment rising slowly in her.

"okay, she's into you," george whispered as fred began removing the spell, leaving the unbuttoned shirt unbuttoned.

"cool beans."

"oh and she gives these back," george smirked.

"oh look at how she bundled it! so adorable georgie!"

"you're disgusting."

y/n hurried to the library at 6pm. she had heard the book she had waited for was finally available.

as she settled down with it, a paper aeroplane hit her.

"ahh!" she screamed as she caught it.

it read:

forbidden forest, 8pm.

huh? was this meant for her? it was in neat handwriting and on the smoothest parchment, with a single flower that smelt like fresh rain.

[shotorozu]

writing letters

character(s) : midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto (bnha)

PART TWO | PART THREE (?)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

note(s) : how the bnha boys would write you notes/letters and when they’d do so! this also includes headcanons of their handwriting, and examples of their letters (without visuals, because of the image limit)

— .｡*ﾟ+.*.｡ it’s my birthday (part 2) ˚✧₊⁎

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

↛ his hand writing is quite rounded, sometimes messy— but most of the time, it’s alright. izuku usually writes at the center of each column. he occasionally hooks his y’s and g’s (think of what the cursive form of y and g looks like)

↛ he writes you a ton of letters, sometimes for special occasions, sometimes for just no reason at all— like whenever you’re feeling downer than usual, or if he can’t see you at the moment. in reality, he only ends up sending out one. boy has a lot on his mind! i mean, izuku’s a natural writer, he’s been writing about heroes for as long as he could remember in middle school. green boy loves you so much, he could write you an entire novel just filled with the nicest words of affirmations, and he could write sequels stacked ontop of more sequels! but,, he’s hesitant on sending you a lot all at once, or even sending you a lot in just a span of one week, because he’s scared of coming off as stalkerish or too obsessed.

hi Y/N!

work study has been busier than usual, and i’ve been wanting to see you check on you. but sadly, i really couldn’t see you as much as i could. i’m so sorry again! but ok, okay! moving on to the reason why im writing this letter in the first place.

i love you i hope you’re doing well :) even though i can’t really see you at the moment, and even when i’m busy at this work study with kacchan, i hope you’re eating, sleeping, and doing well!

i hope you’re thinking about me, as much as im thinking about you :)

— love, izuku <3

bakugou katsuki

↛ surprisingly, his handwriting isn’t the worst thing in the world. it’s decent, and definitely legible. the edges are sharp though— it definitely suits him.

↛ thinks he has no reason to be writing you letters, and he says that because he— as an individual, prefers telling the things he needs to say to you to your face. so, the chance of him writing you letters is pretty slim. katsuki’s not a fan of the idea of hiding behind some ‘stupid’ letter, with the ‘stupid’ inking and ‘stupid’ paper. but then, he hears that some people tend to appreciate handwritten letters ever so often, especially when they’re feeling particularly down. he rolls his eyes at this new profound information, but he takes a mental note of it. even though he could just tell you the words he means to say over and over again, katsuki ends up pushing through with it anyway.

hey, dumbass.

yeah, me writing letters? you thought i’d never in a million years, huh? wrong. super wrong. have you forgotten that i’m a man of a million talents? anyways. shitty ha kirishima told me that writing you a letter would make you feel less shitty, and he’s not completely wrong. he says the weirdest shit, but he makes sense here and there.

look, you do know that i don’t mean any of the shit i say, right? i don’t wanna come back and see you all sulky and pouty, because you know that i don’t actually mean it when i call you that. sometimes i wish you’d fucking yell at me, because you’re not a doormat. then again, you’re my dumbass anyway. never let anyone tell you otherwise

— katsuki.

todoroki shouto

↛ there he is, the love of my life <3 moving aside, his handwriting is pretty neat. not too round, and not too sharp— if there’s an absolute balance, then shouto’s handwriting would probably be just that (his writing isn’t like a font though, and bonus! aizawa has the easiest time checking his papers during written exams)

↛ he probably sends you letters the most, out of all of the characters i’ve wrote about, or will write about. usually, he writes you a letter once or twice a week, even when you’re in the same vicinity as him. however— if you’re away for like,, a work study, or for a family holiday across town, and for quite some time, he’ll end up writing you 4-5 letters a week, depending on the duration of your stay away. he’s quite used to writing letters, since he practically writes his mom whenever he can— you could even say that this is a love language of his, from the way that his words are precise, and nothing short of being sweet and just,, filled with words derived purely from the heart. in his opinion, he doesn’t mind telling you how he feels face to face, but he also doesn’t mind writing letters. he just,, needs to tell you how he feels!

my love,

it’s been a while. i know, and i do want to apologize for that. we.. haven’t been able to see each other, due to the work study with the old man. it’s excruciating to say the least, just thinking about not seeing you for days upon days. i haven’t touched, seen, or spoken to you in person for way too long. and i feel like you might’ve babied me for quite some time, since i can’t even imagine a week without you. but it’s impossible. you’re so delectable, and you’re for sore eyes. i can only yearn for your touch for how much longer.

lastly, i just want you to remember that i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you. i should probably start making the closing point of this letter. before endeavor comes in, and starts looming over my shoulder like the old man he is. i’ll write about that old fart another time, don’t you fret just yet, love.

— with ever lasting love, shouto todoroki <3

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[meruz]

Aforementioned long ask post please excuse me while i try to figure out tumblr's new text editor. I’ll get into the art meme questions first and then the rest at the end.

Ok first of all thank you all for sending in questions! Giving me an excuse to talk hehe. I’ll address these in number order. Here’s a link to the ask meme for reference but also I’ll restate the question for ease of reading.

1. When did you get into art?

Super cliche answer but I don’t remember a time where I WASN’T the weird art kid! I started keeping a dedicated sketchbook when I was about 12? But here’s a page from my kindergarten journal about what I want to be when I grow up.

2. What art-related sites have you ever signed up for? 

LOL this is a weird question. Not sure why so many people want to know. Anyways I definitely had a dA. more than one dA account. I used to browse oekakis when I was a kid but I think I was only signed up to some small ones that internet friends owned. What else...? Mangabullet,Tegakie, Paintberri, iscribble back when that was a thing, instagram if that COUNTs, I used to post art on livejournal and dreamwidth too. Patreon, I guess. Gumroad, inprnt, bigcartel, storenvy all for selling stuff.

In terms of resources.. I have a schoolism account that I’m sharing with friends. Used to take classes on coursera for free. I signed up to textures.com for work recently haha. I can’t remember if I ever had an account on posemaniacs. Did they have accounts...? I definitely used to visit all the time.

3. Show us your oldest piece of art you have on hand.

Alright here’s me actually logging into my old deviantart account. These are from September 2008 So I was 13 years old. I don’t have a deviantart account from before then because 13 was the required age for having an account and I didn’t want to lie about my age because I wanted people to be impressed by how young yet clearly incredible at art I was LOL.

4. What defines your artistic style?

You guys are probably more equipped to answer this than me but uh... I wanna say... Focus on colors. And... a slightly heavy hand? Like confident... not always well-considered mark making HAH...

Also I think I have a pretty healthy mix of american comics/manga influences. I feel like people who are into american comics always think my art is too manga and people who are into anime/manga always think my art is too american. And I’m taking that as a good sign.

5. Do you practice other styles/have you tried other styles in the past?

I like to think I switch it up a bunch! I mean, these are pretty different, right?

I think I’ve mentioned this before but one thing I really took away from art school is that, for an illustrator at least, art style shouldn’t be consistent. Your greatest weapon is changing the aspects of your style based on the task, the emotions and message you want to illustrate etc. So depending on the project I’m working on, the fandom I’m drawing for, whether I want something to be funny or serious or dramatic, I’ll change things about my style all the time.

One thing I don’t rly post on here is really tight polished work and that’s because I do that for my day job haha. If you’re not paying me... I’m probably not gonna color in the lines.

6. What levels of artistic education have you had?

I have a whole ass diploma LOL. Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration. from the Rhode Island School of Design. And I had a great college experience tbh. Besides the student loans. If any of you guys are thinking about art school feel free to e-mail or message me questions or concerns, I’ll be happy to help. Be as honest as I can be.

7. Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site.

heres the wandavision kids. Uhh what else do I have...I feel like I’m rummaging for loose change here...

assorted valentines prep doodles

8. What is your favourite piece that you have done?

Well, obviously this is gonna change all the time and generally it’s gonna be my most recent piece LOL. So yeah, why the hell not. I’ll say it’s this one. I have a pretty short memory which I count as a blessing for an artist. I don’t dwell that long on older work and it keeps me moving forward.

10. What do you like most about your art?

I like that it’s something that only I would make! I had this thought fairly recently and I wrote it down in my sketchbook, it’s pretty cheesy and rambling but it felt revolutionary at the time:

So yeah. I like my art best when it’s the most me and for me. And I like it least when it feels like I’m just making something for social media or for other people’s expectations or whatever.

14. What do you like drawing the most?

Kids in baggy clothing are like my go-to LOL idk if that’s obvious. but also I like being challenged so lately I’ve really loved drawing multi-character compositions, environments, weird angles, etc.

oh i LOVE drawing the underside of shoes lol. And bandages. People that are kinda beat up.. I think it comes from getting a bunch of cuts all the time. I’m always patching myself up and I want to patch characters up too.

15. What do you like drawing the least?

mmm I try to find something to like in every drawing but lets see... I don’t like doing commissions of people’s dogs. Just because it’s normally like... a family friend and my mom volunteered me without my consent and I don’t even really know what they’re expecting me to draw and I don’t even get to meet the dog. Also I’m not that great at dog anatomy. Trying to learn though.

18. What is your purpose for drawing?

This could have a million answers! Uhhh to GIT GOOD??? But also to express myself... and also to make money... I mean it depends on what the drawing IS. I draw fanart mostly to connect to people in the fandom so if you ever see me drawing fanart please take it as like an open invitation to talk to me about the character haha. 

20. How would you rank your art? (poor, mediocre, good, etc.)

Good!!! I have a lot of self-confidence primarily born out of ignorance and a short attention span. If I don’t think too hard about how many other artists are mindblowingly unfathombly good... its easy to think I’m good too! LOL

In all seriousness though, I think the opinion a person has of their art is like a crazy balancing act, right? Like you have to think you suck enough to want to get better but also you have to think you’re good enough to not want to give up. I think we’re all walking that line, I know I am! But also I’m a glass half-full type of person so. Most of the time I feel good about it.

22. List at least one of your “artspirations.”

This is a good question because I’ve been trying and failing to put together one of those “influence map” memes for like a full month now. What’s giving me a hard time is I feel like none of these are actually really obvious “““influences”““ in my art? Like it’s hard to see a lot of them in the work I make...? But idk maybe you guys’ll see what I can’t.

And these are just a couple! God there’s so many more. I could talk about other artists for ages, from all different genres of art. Daumier, Rockwell like every illustrator out there, Dana Gibson, Alex Toth, Hiroshi Yoshida, a lot of the Brandywine School. Lots of current working artists too, Karl Kerschl, frikkin Masashi Kishimoto lol, Jake Wyatt, Richie Pope, Edouard Caplain, Matt Cook, Sachin Teng, - lots of big internet artists, Sophie Li, Freddy Carrasco, Milliofish, Angela Sung... like all my friends from art school too. I could just keep going but I’ll stop for now lol.

24. Do you have a shameful art past? (recolour sprite comics, tracing art, etc.)

I mean if that’s how we’re defining shameful?? sure LOL. It’s not sprite comics but I used to do pokemon sprite recolors all the time. And I used to trace manga panels and color them... Granted this was all when I was like under 12 yrs old so it’s not even embarrassing. Can you really call it shameful when a 7 year old wets the bed or whatever? Not really. In fact some of these are cool as fuck. Look

25. Draw a picture!

Man I’m so tired now but here.

I used to get a lot of compliments for drawing people smiling lol but I don’t think I’ve drawn a lot of smiling lately.. here’s proof I’ve still got it.

OK MEME DONE. onto the rest.

I read this ask first thing when i opened my computer in the morning and it made me really emotional.. I’m so glad my sketches could help you!!

I think a lot of artists on social media talk about the struggle of making art but imo not enough people talk about the joy! Like I know it’s corny but. I really meant what I said at the beginning of that sketchbook about re-contextualizing art around process and progress > product and perfection. I think its super important..! The strength of messy, unfinished, and energetic art! For the feeling of it, for the love it!

That's crazy!!! I hope you like 'em. The whole line of x-books is really good rn imo.

Hi! I totally have the answer for digital stuff on my faq lol. But in terms of drawing on paper.. it varies! I tend to use sketchbooking and any on-paper doodling I do as a way to loosen up/warm-up or experiment. But right now my go-to aresenal is:

from top > bottom

- kuretake no.55 doublesided brush pen

- tombow fudenosuke

- muji 0.38 ballpoint

- medium size poscas

- grey tombow double brush pens

- good ol bic mechanical pencil

not EXACTly sure which inking you referring to from my sketchbook but if I had to take a guess it'd probably be the kuretake no55. That's been my main inker, lately. Great for sketching with the thin end too.

You can print out and eat my art if you like. Just please don't mass produce or re-sell. <3

Thanks! I've come to accept that my art is always gonna be sort of gestural and painty naturally. It's getting it to tighten up enough to be legible that's hard lol...

uh yeah lol I agree actually. I think yolei is great.

I assume these asks are related? LOL

1) Yeah totally true. I love David.

2) I don’t take requests, sorry! But if you want to commission me to draw Legion i would be MORE than happy to. Just e-mail me at isellhotdogs@gmail.com.

<33333333333333333333333333

[sleepysailorjunko]

Arcade wasn't sure what he expected when the Courier asked him to accompany them. They hadn't given a name, only said they were a Courier. It wasn't much to go on, but the Courier had looked up at him with big eyes. And for some reason, it didn't sound all that crazy to venture beyond the fort with them, a natural stanger.

They had listened so reverently when Julie spoke. They had fulfilled any job asked of them by the Followers. Certainly, if they harbored ill will towards the Followers, they would have gotten to their revenge before now.

He had asked for their name, if only to be polite.

"I don't have one. Courier or Six is fine, if you'd like."

"You don't have a name?"

"I guess I probably did once, but I don't remember any more. I just remember the man in the checkered coat- an 18-carat run of bad luck-and then waking up in Doc Mitchell's house. Maybe that man knows who I was. I don't know."

"That doesn't bother you, not having a past?"

"No, not really." The Courier leaned back. "I'm just me. Sure, I can't look back on the road behind me, but I can look forward."

"Interesting. Are you going to look for the man in the checkered coat?"

"I don't know. I guess I could. I'm supposed to, because he stole something from me and shot me in the head."

"Wait, he shot you in the head?"

"Yeah, that's why I don't remember much. It messed with my head too."

"Well, yeah. Getting shot in the head would do that."

"Oh, wait, I do have one hint to who I might have been." The courier starts to undo the many closures of their armor, like a fire's been lit under them. "What do you make of this?"

The Courier drops their armor clumsily on the floor, and then goofily flexes. He doesn't really know what they're refering to, but then he sees the poorly-done tattoo on their upper arm. It's a ring of roses and thorns that raps under their bicep. Despite being very mediocre, it is legible and in color.

"Huh." Tattoos aren't really unique, but it is something. "Maybe your name is Rose?"

"Maybe. It doesn't sound right."

"Maybe you just need to try it out for a while, wear it in." He's trying to help, but the Courier is a near stranger to him. "Or, if you'd like, I could arrange for you to see Dr. Usa-"

"No thanks. Don't want to take up her time." The refusal was off faster than a bullet from a sixgun. "If you're ready to go, so am I."

"Sure." He agreed. It wasn't really healthy of the Courier to act out against the idea of visiting the clinic, but it wasn't something he could force them into. At least, not as a near stranger.

This turned out to be one of the few times the Courier's former-NCR sniper friend wasn't travelling with them. He probably wouldn't have decided to go with the Courier if he had known they had company. Still, it isn't all that bad, even if he feels a little crowded with the Courier, their robot pet ED-E (he hates that thing), the King's robot-dog, the sniper, and the Remnant medical researcher. One more person, and the Courier will have a small army.

Not that the Courier normally has all of them traveling together at once. It's too noticeable, draws too much attention. It might even sound like a joke: an Enclave eyebot, a police cyber dog, an amnesiac Courier, a grouchy NCR sniper, and a medical researcher walk in to a bar...

It makes the Courier happy to travel with him, so he does it on occasion. Those occassions become a lot more frequent after they return from a place they call the "Big Empty".

That had been months ago. Now, he felt like he knew the Courier. Not that he wasn't surprised by the Courier-he certainly was. But he was familiar with the Courier now.

It was a dangerous sort of thing, that familiarity. He was even starting to think that perhaps it would be a good idea to let them in on his own origins.

And he knew how the Courier felt about him.

Leaning against his side while they sat at a fire, the Courier's hands stripping a defeated foe's weapon, they had muttered something.

"Sorry, say again?" Arcade responded. Most of the time, it was just complaints about bent springs or whatever, more to themselves than to him.

The Courier's hands stopped, laying the weapon on the ground.

"You're my brother, Arcade." The Courier says, and then continues before Arcade could interrupt. "Not by blood. Or hell, maybe you are. It's not like I'd remember. Course you are a heck of a lot taller than I am...maybe the tall gene skipped me."

Arcade doesn't say anything, attempting to process what the Courier was trying to tell him.

"No, we're not related by blood." He agrees, although he has no real way to confirm it without knowing the Courier's identity.

"I know." The Courier put their hand up to their chest. "I just...well, I know you're my brother. I, uhh, care about you."

Arcade didn't know what to say about that. It really did feel like it had come out of nowhere to him. A few weeks later, the Courier had gone running off to a place that might have been their home.

Antietam is walking by his side now, but their gaze is drawn over to an old poster. The pre-war store was filled with advertisements for many different products, from Sugar-Bombs to the newest products from Rob-Co.

Shelves, long ransacked and destroyed, have created something of a maze. The laminate tiling on the floor has become loose after centuries of neglect. Decorations littering the area would mark this location as a raider base at some point.

His friend doesn't seem to notice any of that, moving closer to a central display that might have been made of stacked shoeboxes once. Now, the boxes lay in a crumpled heap.

"Antietam, wait-" He says, and the courier stops.

"Yeah? Do you need something?"

"You need to be more careful! This could be a trap."

"I don't think it is. I'm pretty good at finding traps and I don't see any tripwires or bear traps. I've stepped in enough of those."

"Of course you wouldn't see them! It's a mess in here."

"I'm not going far. I just wanna see if I can find some of those."The Courier pointed at an advertisement. It was of a girl with little wheels on her shoes, looking over her shoulder as she spun away. Under the picture, it read "Roll with the punches with Roller-Ray skates!".

"Do you..need those?"

"Well, no. I just think they would be cool. Just rollin around town."

"I'll go with them." Boone added, if only so he could keep an eye on them.

"Yeah, plus ED-E's sensors haven't picked up on anything. I can handle myself while looking for skates, Arcade."

On that note, the Courier and Boone go to pick through the rubble. When they returned, Antietam raised their arm triumphantly.

"We found them! A little dinged up, but I can fix that. C'mon, lets go outside to try them!" With the hand not holding their skates, Antietam grabbed at Arcade's sleeve.

"Okay, okay." He said, because Antietam's enthusiasm for things was infectious sometimes. They exited the store, entering that had once been a parking lot. Rusted-through cars sat abandoned and the sun hung low in the sky.

Antietam dropped to the floor, strapping on their skates. They were metal and fit awkwardly with their combat boots and spurs. Awkwardly, like a baby radstag on ice, the Courier stood up.

"Okay,so I just." The Courier lifted one leg as if to take a step. Their balance was offset by the movement. Next to him, Arcade saw Boone move to catch the Courier if they fell, but the Courier braced themselves on a car instead.

They took a few more awkward steps.

"Yeah, I think I'm getting the hang of this." Their movements were jerky, but in time, perhaps they'd be alright at it.

Then they hit a skid in the destroyed asphalt and took a spill. Their left side collided hard with a rusted shell.

"Ouch." they groaned, and then collapsed onto the parking lot. "I'm just gonna rest here for a second."

Arcade laughed a little, and then helpfully whined about the sun.

"Alright, alright. Okay, getting up." The Courier pushed up from the asphalt with both hands, rising from their crumpled mass.

"Nothing broken?" Arcade asked, seeing Antietam avoid putting too much weight on their left side.

"No, probably just bruised." They replied, but that was what Arcade had expected. They were still extremely hesitant to be medically examined, even if it meant concealing and ignoring injuries. It stung Arcade-someone who the Courier allegedly loved like a brother-to be held at arms' length. That being said, he couldn't be upset with them either. The Courier had suffered greatly and been stripped of agency by doctors. It was a mark of pride that Antietam trusted him.

Actually, he could still be angry with them for concealing injuries.

The sun was beating down as steadily as it always did in the Mojave. A bead of sweat formed on Arcade's neck.

"Oh shoot." The Courier murmured, looking over their hands. They wore fingerless gloves, and a pip-boy on one arm. Arcade examined the injury. It would be a lot of work if the Courier came down with tetnus. "It's just a scrape, Arcade."

"It's not just a scrape. It's dirty and could get infected."

"Hottest part of the days coming up. We should wait it out in the store." Boone added, helpfully.

"C'mon, listen to your big brother, ok?" Arcade tried with a smile. The Courier looked up at him with their wide brown eyes.

Arcade was not above emotional manipulation.

Half a year ago, if someone told him that he was going to play big brother to a Courier who knew nothing about their past and hated doctors, he'd have likely sent them to see Dr. Usanagi.

The Courier ran their gloved hand through their short white hair. It fluffed up their bangs (despite the pin staying in place) and revealed the twin scars on their forehead and the surgical scar that ran around their skull.

"Okay." The Courier responded, sticking their wrist out to him for treatment.

"Oh, that's a nasty cut." he said, "Let's head inside so we can get this treated.:

In the end, even if the Courier was a hassle sometimes, he was glad to be their brother. He was turning into such a sap.

[babyspiderling]

Up To Interpretation Michael Jackson x reader

(Victory Tour)

I stand on the corner of the stage, the arena dead silent around me. I hear a radio playing softly from somewhere backstage and I sign along, closing my eyes and letting my hands dance and tell the story the singer weaves. I hear the click of hard souls on the concrete, their clacks drawing closer to me. The squeak of sneakers, or some kind of rubber soled shoe follows behind the first set. I don't stop signing through the interruption, focused on keeping up with the speed and the intent behind it. I hear both feet whispering to each other, but I don't pay them any mind. I have to be perfect for the first performance of the tour. The rubber soles squeak away as the click clack of the other pair grows closer. A hand is placed on my shoulder and I turn to the hard soled feet. I am met with one of the singers I am interpreting tonight. I concentrate on his eyes, signalling him to go on. Behind him, I see one of his brothers run up behind him, his rubber sneakers squeaking across the stage, a notebook and pen in hand. He shouts "I got what you asked for Mike!" Mr. Hard Shoes glances over his shoulder and accepts the items. Opening the book, he scribbled down on the paper. He quickly shoves the book into my hands and gestures to me to read what he had written. "Hello, my name is Michael Jackson. Who are you and what are you doing here?" His handwriting is a bit difficult to read, random capitalization's here and there, and the words scribbled quickly and carelessly. I guess I was taking too long to read the note, sneakers huffing out a "Great, not only is she deaf, but illiterate." I swallow and hand the book back to Michael, turning to sneakers. I stare him in the face as I sign. "Me not deaf. Me hearing. Me don't speak. Me sign. Me sign for you."

A/N: This is ASL Gloss, The sentence structure for ASL is a bit different than regular English. ASL is quick and to the point, since there are no signs for words like "and" "the" "or" etc. Deaf People are not cavemen, they can express the same thoughts, feelings, and ideas we can, they just do it a little differently.

His mouth drops open a little bit in confusion, his eyes locked on mine as he says to Michael, "What is she saying and why is she staring at me?" I roll my eyes and turn back to Michael. I sign "Your book, you give me? Please?" Michael gets the picture, the sign for book clueing him in. "Oh! You want my notebook? Here." He hands me the notebook and pen and I write carefully and legibly. "I'm not deaf. I'm actually hearing. I'm mute, so I sign. I'm your interpreter for the U.S leg of the tour." I hand the book back and patiently wait for him to read it. He playfully smacks sneakers upside the head, laughing out a "You idiot, she's not a crazy fan. She's our interpreter for the show! And she heard everything you said." I smile, seeing the relationship the two have.

Sneaker's eyes widen comically as he realizes how far he stuck his foot in his mouth. He walks up to me, holding out his hand for me to shake. "Sorry 'bout that. I'm Jackie. We just saw some girl standing on stage waving her hands around like a crazy person, and didn't know what to think." I shake his hand, signing book again so I can properly introduce myself. Under my previous message I write "I'm Y/N, I understand the confusion. I'm mute, meaning I can't talk, but I can hear everything just as well as you can. For some reason, the fact that I can't talk made them hire me on the spot. I was actually about to ask for the set list so I can rehearse, or at least be a little prepared for tonight." I hand the notebook to Jackie and keep the pen to myself, writing on my wrist to purchase a few notebooks myself. He nods and leads me to the backstage area, Michael following close behind. "I'll introduce you to the guys and get you the set list, alright?" I nod my head, memorizing the path since I probably won't be able to ask for directions if I got lost.

Jackie leads me to a dressing room filled with four other guys and two girls. Michael introduces me to the group, "Guys, this is Y/N, she's our interpreter for the U.S leg of the tour. Y/N, this is Jermaine, Marlon, Randy and Tito. These are our sisters La Toya and Janet." I wave to them, staying silent. Marlon says "Cool, signing even when off the clock, nice gimmick." I look back to Michael and sign "They read book." He stutters out "Oh right. Here guys, this should explain some." He takes the notebook from his pocket and tosses it to Jermaine, who then passes it around. La Toya walked up to me with this glint in her eye. "Oh! You're so pretty! If we were going anywhere else, I wouldn't do a thing, but those stage lights will completely wash you out, even the guys have to wear makeup. Can I get you ready?" I think about it, and nod. I hold up a finger, and write down. "It has to be simple. Nothing flashy. Rules of the game. No jewelry, no distracting clothes, no sparkle eye makeup. Not up to me, just comes with being an interpreter." She reads it quickly and sags her shoulders a bit. "Fine, I get it. Nothing too flashy. But I promise, we're going to have some fun." She drags me to a second dressing room, one with lit up mirrors and vanities. She sits me down and pulls out a giant makeup case. I relax my face and let her do her thing, trusting her to not go overboard. She plugs in a curling iron as she finishes up my makeup. Without any paper around, I try my best to communicate. I pull my hair back, off my face, another rule of interpreting. Luckily, La Toya got the message. "Oh! Hair back, got it." She curls my hair, completely covering it in hairspray, and gives me a beautiful bun on the top of my head, leaving the second half of my hair down. I inspect myself in the mirror, never feeling this beautiful in my life. I turn to La Toya and sign "Thank you", hoping that if she doesn't understand my hands, she can understand the look in my eyes.

I walk out into the hallways, now hustling and bustling as it gets closer to show time. I was given the set list and lyric sheet for the night while I was made over. I run the entire show at least 5 times before being called to take my place, the instructional prologue getting ready to play.

By the end of the show, my wrists and fingers ached from the fast movements to stay on pace with the band. Walking backstage, I just want to take my makeup off and stretch out my aching joints. Michael stops me in the hall and asks me, "Hey, you want to fly with us? I'd love to get to know you more, plus give you the set list for the next show to let you practice." I nod, wanting to answer his questions. He lights up. "Maybe, you can teach me some sign language? Don't get me wrong, I love writing back and forth, but it'd be cool to sign to each other" He leads me to the limo that is taking him to the hotel and then the airport in the morning. "I'm not sure where your room is, but I can have your stuff sent to mine and we can talk some. If you'd like." I shrug my shoulders, I didn't know either. He makes a quick phone call and I watch the lights move past. "Hey, Y/N, you were really cool there. It was like you were singing and dancing with your hands at the same time. Why don't you talk? If you don't mind me asking. You don't have to answer." I hold out my hand for the notebook and try my best to write on the bumpy road. "Long story. I'll tell you at the hotel, roads too rough to write it out on the way." He reads my writing and nods in understanding. "I get it." We fall into a comfortable silence as we drive to his hotel.

I follow Michael through the lobby, up the elevators and to his suite. My bags are placed in the main room, and Michael stretches his arms above his head. "Hey, Y/N, I'm going to go take a shower. If your story really is as long as you're saying, go ahead and start writing it down. I can read it while you shower." I nod and he hands me a legal pad, much better than the little hand notebook Michael carried around at all times. I sit down and start writing.

"I've been mute since I was 6 years old. My dad and I were going to the record store to listen to some and take others home to add to our collection. The light turned green, and we went, but someone else swerved into our lane, causing a head on collision. My dad died on impact, but they said he didn't feel any pain. Pieces of glass got caught in and cut my throat. I woke up in the hospital with no vocal chords, no voice. The damage done was too much for them to take and they had to be removed. I don't want your pity, I've gotten nothing but pity since I was 6. I'm not fragile and you do not need to treat me as such." I put the pen down just as Michael finished up in the bathroom. I gestured to the pad, and grabbed clothes for the shower. When I came out Michael was just staring at the paper, some areas warped with his spilled tears. He looked up at me with glossy eyes and enveloped me in his arms. "Oh, Y/N, I am so sorry. We don't have to talk about it or anything. We can just go to bed right now if you want." I shake my head. I break away reluctantly and go back to the paper. "No, it's ok. If you have any questions I will do my best to answer them." He thinks for a moment and asks, "Can you make any sounds? If you don't have vocal chords, how can you be vocal?" I hum a little tune, and make a couple of noises. We sit down, and he asks me to teach him to sign. We start with finger spelling.

"What's your favorite candy?" "(F-A-V-O-R-I-T-E C-A-N-D-Y)" "Wow! I love those! I like S-K-I-T-T-L-E-S. Oh! And P-E-A-N-U-T M-N-M-S!" I smile at him. He's a really fast learner. I yawn and glance at the clock. I sign "time" and point at the clock. He follows my finger and reads the time. "Oh wow, 1:30. We should probably get to bed. I'll take the couch and see you in the morning." I reach for the pen to protest but he snatches it before I can lay a finger on it. "No Ifs ands or buts. I'm taking the couch." I roll my eyes, signing "Silly boy" and making my way to the bed. I fall into a blissful sleep easily.

The next morning Michael and I are on our way to the plane, the next stop being Irving. We sit across from each other, Michael signing what he can, and writing what he can't. I teach him little words and phrases as we go, and specific ones at his request. Sooner than expected we touch down and make our way to the venue. The entire tour goes by in a flash, performing every night with the boys, only watching from the wings our eight shows in Canada. On our last night in LA and my last night on the job, Michael drops a bomb on everyone around the world. That this was the last show for the tour. I translated what he said for the audience, a look of complete confusion on my face. I struggled to focus on the task at hand, translating for those Deaf at the show, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The show had ended finally and it was chaos backstage. People yelling at Mike for his cancellation, calling it selfish, immature. I couldn't help but feel a little hurt. I knew that this was my last show, and that I would no longer be working with the band, but I thought he would at least tell me since I thought we were close. I pushed through the throngs of angry managers and crew members back to my little corner.

I gathered my things, coming across one of the notebooks that Michael and I had practically filled. The others full of writing were in my suitcase back at the hotel. In my heartache, I accidentally dropped the notebook, its pages falling open on impact. A page filled with shading and lines caught my attention, its place in the back making it invisible to me. Examining it closely, I realize it's an incredibly done sketch of me, done by Michael. I was asleep when he did this. I think it was on the plane to Denver. I gently closed the pages, and placed it into my bag.

I turned my gaze to the sound of the door opening, revealing none other than the artist himself. With creased eyebrows, I simply sign "Why?", not understanding why he did it a bit. He sagged, as if all the air had been let out of him. "Because, Y/N, I couldn't stand being under their thumb anymore. I couldn't work with Joseph anymore, I need to be the one in control. I want to make my own music, send my own message, without anyone telling me otherwise." I nod, understanding where he was coming from, but sad to see him go. I wiped at my tears and signed "I'll miss you Applehead." This made him chuckle and pull me in for a long, large hug. "I'll miss you too." He kissed the top of my head and took a step back. He signed "You always in my heart." something I had taught him, but fragmented. He picked up the notebook laying in the top of my bag and tore out an empty page, as well as a pen. He handed both to me. "Write down your address and I promise I will write to you practically everyday. And if I ever go on tour, I know just who I'll hire to be my interpreter." With one final tearful hug goodbye, it was time for us to go our separate ways. I would miss him, but I knew I would always be in his heart, and he in mine.

Taglist: @accio-boys​

[soudam-appreciation]

Study... date?

Gundam sighed, shrugging his overweight backpack over his shoulder. He had not planned for today to become a social one, though he supposed it was not quite unwelcome. The mortal known as Kazuichi, Tamer of Automatons, had requested his presence here, though for precisely what ritual, Gundam did not know.

Kazuichi leaned back in his chair and rested his legs atop of the table as he inhaled the overwhelming (and honestly, kinda gross) scent of old and new books as he waited for Gundam to hurry the fuck up and get to the library, because he really didn’t have all day. 

He perked up, though, when he saw a small flash of purple and black move by one of the bookshelves he sat next to. Souda stood, waving his hands frantically in an attempt to catch the goth boy’s attention, not wanting to call out and cause more of a scene than the literal highlighter waving his hands sporadically like he was at a concert.

The neon blur tugged at Gundam’s peripheral, and he crossed his arms before him. Facing the boy, he began a usual greeting. “At last, you have been found. Do you not fear this meeting, Fool?” His voice boomed and echoed through the stacks, inciting an annoyed rustle and collective whisper.

Kazuichi’s eyes went wide as he started rapidly shushing him, because if him basically jumping up and down trying to get Gundam to notice him didn’t draw attention to the two, Gundam basically shouting definitely did. Speaking as softly as he could considering how badly his heart rate spiked, he tried to get him to quiet down.

“D-dude! Shut- shut the- Don’t! Stop fuckin’....fuckin’ screaming like that! Jesus! Shudda’...shut the- shut the fuck up! Shhh!” 

Recollection of the location at hand hit Gundam with a hell-strength impact. Clearing his throat, he hurriedly glanced around, mumbling fractured apologies for his forgetfulness. If there was one thing that would make even the Dark Overlord himself bow, it would be intense embarrassment as a direct result of his own foolishness- not that he would even say such a thing. To allow enemies access to his weakness?! Preposterous. He whispered a short apology to Souda as well, for the mortal seemed far more distraught than he. 

Souda groaned softly, rubbing his face with his hands for a few moments before bouncing back almost as fast, a lazy grin plastered across his face. That didn’t stop the drop of malice and embarrassment showing through in his cheerful voice as he pushed out a chair next to the one he was leaning on before to invite Gundam to sit with him. 

There were a lot of books, papers, pens and one lone computer scattered across the table. Souda easily pushed these aside as he sat down to take a sip of his…something. 

Gundam followed suit, dropping his bag on the floor beside him as he took his seat. He was not entirely sure what they were to do on this day, although crawling deep underground was an option he prayed upon. Unzipping his backpack as soundlessly as he could, he retrieved a notepad and slid a simple message to his companion.

What, pray tell, have you summoned me for?

Kazuichi read it over before snatching the notepad from Gundam’s hand, as well as the fancy pen he had (despite there being many writing utensils of his own he could’ve used, he honestly just wanted to be a bit of a dick to his past rival). He scrawled something quickly on it and slid it back nervously, despite there being no teachers nor rules against slipping each other notes. 

ok, well, i asked u 2 come here bc i am fucking failing math and biology and there r these 2 tests cming up i need u 2 help me study for. i thought u’d know a lot abt biology and u seem smart ig so-

He ripped another blank note out to write on more.

-so i thought u could help with, math too. hinata won’t help me he’s mad i spilt monster on his laptop still even though that was a whole day ago :(

The writing was barely legible and Kazuichi seemed to shorten words as best as he could, since he also wrote very large on the small sheet of paper. He slid the second note to Tanaka for him to read.

Squinting, Gundam managed to make out Souda’s print. He sighed, briefly wondering how incompetent Souda actually was, and where to even begin studying. Retrieving his pen, albeit a bit forcefully, he turned to a new page and began his transmission.

Where should we begin? Is there a specific field in which you have little expertise?

As Souda read over the note in the pretty cursive handwriting, he let out a small giggle. He couldn’t help it, reading Gundam’s dumbass Overlord-victorian speak was somehow funnier than hearing it out loud. Snatching the pen and paper back, he started writing.

uh um well i never ever got algebra the little letters always confused me and in biology kind of everything. man i’m not good with that kinda shit like u i’ve seen ur grades you don’t know how 2 whisper when ur flaunting them to sonia lol

Gundham’s ears got hot, and he fidgeted with the end of his scarf. Grabbing his pen, he scribbled out, I do no such thing. I simply share because I am asked, that should be a simple concept to grasp. His scrawl was messier, his haste blurring his senses. Deep breaths stilled his hostility, and he turned to a new page.

So shall we begin with variables, then? You may need to work exceptionally hard to recall these, as no doubt it will be of importance. 

Once again, Kazuichi laughed as he watched Gundam get a little pissed at the Sonia comment. Even when they were slowly getting closer, messing with the guy still yielded hilarious results.

come on man!!!! why r u getting so pissy i’m just teasing u. u know i know that u know we aren’t rivals anymore so calm down!!!!! >:3

anyways uhh ya sure we can start w, variables ig. i don’t remember a lot of this stupid ass math lingo so ur gonna need to remind me some of it.

Variables are those “little letters” you spoke of. If something I mention confuses you, alert me at once. 

Gundam chose to ignore all of Souda’s previous statement, focusing instead on the task at hand. There did not seem a logical reason to become so frustrated when Souda spoke of her. So why did it ignite a hellfire in his chest? 

He shook off the thought, selecting a standard textbook from his oversized backpack and placing it on the table with a thunk. Opening to a page about Variables, the most annoying of unknowns, he slid the book across for Souda’s viewing ease. 

We should begin here, page 28. Do you have a journal for notes?

yeah that’s fine also do u mind me keeping our notes or atleast yours please plz plsssss

Sure enough, the smaller boy was already making a pile of the discarded notes they had forgotten about. Mostly Gundams. It was the only neat thing on the table thus far.

Sighing again, Gundam ceded. He had no use for them, anyway. It caught his attention as slightly strange, but he chose to pay it no mind. Scratching out what information he could on such a small surface, he quickly realized that simply would not work. He slid a mostly-empty notebook from his bag and selected a blank page to share with Souda. It wasn’t as if he really needed the pages in this notebook either, so he added a small note at the top offering the torn-out pages for outside studying.

Souda took the page and studied it, before brightly grinning up at Gundam and quickly nodding. This was fancy shit, definitely not something extremely expensive (he knew Gundam definitely wouldn’t dare share that kind of paper, seeing the small slightly-faded stains of car oil on his hands that he just couldn’t scrub out) but Souda probably wouldn’t be buying these things, especially for every class, without at least a week of ramen dinners to make up for the waste of money working at his Dads mechanic shop.

Souda suddenly realized that ‘fancy shit’ to a slightly broke kid like him was definitely not ‘fancy shit’ to Gundam “I don’t know how to dress casually Ever” Tanaka.

Gundam continued to script line after line, attempting to explain these subjects in terms Souda would understand. The look in Souda’s eyes gnawed at him, such excitement on display over some math notes. He wasn’t certain what rubbed him wrong about it, so he brushed it aside. Reaching the bottom of the page, he printed a small question. 

Do you still understand thus far?

Souda finally grabbed one of his own pens that lay discarded on the table instead of stealing Gundams.

yeah i get it u explain it a lot better than the teachers or chiaki despite ur little demon talk r whatever lol. chiaki use to help me like all the time but she kept falling asleep on me we never got anything done

Reading Souda’s message tempted laughter, and Gundam bit his cheek to silence it. Nodding sagely, he scrawled, As likely as you are to bend truths pertaining to women, this account does seem trustworthy. He knew just as well as anyone how exhausted Chiaki constantly seemed. 

Tugging the newly completed page from its binds, Gundam offered it to Souda as well. 

Souda looked almost offended by the note (he still took it, because of course he did) and hastily scribbled another and shoved it in Gundams chest with a grin.

WOW DICK i’m not gonna go after every girl that falls asleep on me!!! sonia hasn’t fallen asleep on me yet and you know!!!!! >:(((((( 

Gundam stiffened, bandaged hand safely out of sight under the table. If it had been visible, Souda would have a clear view of numb fingers folding against his palm before stretching into claws, over and over. Another deep breath was necessitated by his pounding heart, and he stilled his mind. There was no reason for this feeling. What possible purpose could this rush of adrenaline serve? Certainly nothing pertaining to math. He cleared his throat again, which ended up sounding a bit more like a growl, and took up his pen.

You say “yet”, as if there is even the slightest chance of such an occurrence in the future. This, I do know. A smug smirk crossed his face, daring to settle on his lips.

Souda pouted as he read the note, a somehow adorable sight as he quickly snagged Gundams pen again (once again ignoring his own) and scrawled something on a new note and shoved it back to him. 

nuh-uh! u don’t know shit. unless u can see the future!!! tell me tell me tell me. maybe ur freaky demon shit is real after all ANYWAYS do i end up w miss sonia plz please tell me??!?? :3

Gundam tasted blood as he bit his lip hard. Why was Souda so insistent on her? No, he knew why. She was aesthetically pleasing to someone like him. This was not new information, but it still irked Gundam like hell. He pursed his lips. The last thing he was going to do was tell Souda his pathetic simpering dreams would come true in the end. Or perhaps, the last thing he wanted would be to admit to Souda that he cannot truly see the future? Grumbling, he snatched his pen back and tapped it against his knuckles. Neither option was preferred, though one was a clear admission of weakness…

He settled on a third choice. Of course not. I know precisely who you shall fall for in the end, although I cannot tell you. That is the Law of Causality.

actually it’s the law of cASSuaslity because ur an asshole who the fuck cares why can’t u just tell me!!! if i don’t get with miss sonia or whatever u say i don’t even know if i completely believe ur bonkers shit why can’t u just tell me their name or anything i just!!! want a hint. please 

Kazuichi’s handwriting grew sloppier as he grew more desperate. Why the fuck was Gundam hiding it? It’s not like he’s gonna get suspended for some random ‘law’ or whatever he probably made up. He didn’t even know what the word Causality meant but it sounded exactly like a freaky word Gundam would say.

All I may tell you is that… Gundam paused, wiggling his pen between thumb and forefinger to come up with an excuse. …you have likely already made their acquaintance. All trace of smugness had dropped from his features, now replaced with stale indifference. He locked his worry deep in his chest, buried it. The last thing he needed was Souda to call him out on such a ridiculously big lie.

Souda didn’t know why, but he grinned at that. He grinned at a lot of dumb shit, and Gundam telling him some vague dumbass answer like that was apparently dumb enough to get on his list of Dumb Shit That Made Him Grin. He flicked Gundams note into his ever growing pile and chugged the rest of his drink, his eyes blown wide with the sudden rush of, apparently, sugar. He tapped the textbook again, trying to remind them both to stay on task. His hands were starting to shake too much from the sugar high to make writing any good.

Gundam nodded. They needed to focus on the task at hand.. Which was math. Boring math. Another sigh settled in his chest, and he thought fleetingly on how he would much rather talk about silly magic business. Shaking dramatically dual-toned hair from his eyes, he set to scribbling some more numbers. Stupid, boring numbers. 

Kazuichi watched with interest as Gundam quickly drew out complex strings of numbers and occasional letters. However, his mind quickly drifted as well as his eyes. Higher and higher until he was watching Gundam’s facial expressions shift as he tried to help Souda. How he bit his lip as he hesitated before continuing to keep writing, how his eyes narrowed, Souda half-mindedly thought of how pretty Tanaka’s eyes were, he could get lost in them if he really wanted to, and he did. So he simply tuned out the sound of pen against pencil, rustling of paper and the occasional whisper between others in the library and just stared into his eyes.

Sliding another page across the table, Gundam glanced up at Souda’s face, before they quickly flicked away. On the quickly growing list of things he did Not Want to happen today, was for Souda to catch him staring. Or- he paused. To catch… Souda staring? He didn’t want to look again, even if he was right, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as if he could feel Souda’s gaze. Ears growing red, he scripted a small note back, faltering slightly as nerves made his fingers stiff. 

Do you still understand well enough?

Kazuichi’s gaze didn’t move until he finally noticed Gundam actually wrote words down. He did a double take back at his face before he picked up his pen, his cheeks heating up. Shit, did Gundam catch him looking? His hands trembled slightly from the sugar and caffeine as he scribbled on the paper.

yeah i understand completely ur a good teacher  i already said that didn’t i sorry

He slid the note over, now doing his best to keep his eyes on the table and not on Gundam.

Do not fret, I am pleased you understand. 

Clearing his throat as quietly as he could, he returned to numbers. Gundam really tried to focus, he did. But he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering… Muscle memory served him well, and he continued to write, but his mind’s eye strayed from questioning Souda’s gaze, to wondering why keeping their notes tidy was so important, to the way Souda tapped his fingers on the desk ever so slightly, the sugar and caffeine running rampant through his veins. It soon became impossible to focus, and he started mixing up numbers and crossing them out. He shook his head, hard, mumbling apologies for scrambling up his figures. 

Kazuichi easily picked up Gundams distraction and yanked an empty note from him to write on.

do u wanna stop for today

He slid it over, giving Gundam a small smile as he did. He wasn’t unfamiliar with his brain getting jumbled and melting into mush and before he knew it, the day was over and he hadn’t got shit done. So he didn’t mind giving up for today, starting again tomorrow or next week. He just liked being with Gundam, kinda. As weird as that was. 

Gundam nodded. 

My sincerest apologies, I seem to have lost my senses…

What the hell had gotten into him? This was highly unusual for him. Gundam mumbled another quiet sorry, sliding the incomplete and jumbled page across to Kazuichi just in case he needed it anyway. 

Souda tidied everything up on the desk, sliding his books, computer and the notes into his black backpack. As he stood, he bounced on his heels, the caffeine suddenly taking full effect as he finally got out of the chair and could move around to his heart's desire. He slid his backpack over one of his shoulders and didn’t hesitate to start playing with one of the enamel pins of a vocaloid character that hung from the zipper, needing something to occupy his hands with.

Gundam stood as well, fumbling as he slipped the last notebook into his bag. Offering a hand, he gestured towards the door. He whispered, “Shall we meet again tomorrow, then? I swear I shall do better at my job.” 

Kazuichi laughed softly at that, nodding. His hands fiddled with his jumpsuit pockets as he made his way over to Tanaka, a small bounce in his step. He would definitely blame that and what he did next on the overload of caffeine in his system the next day. He put his hands on Gundams shoulders, slightly dragging him down as he stood on his tippy-toes, kissing him sweetly on the lips before he was already skipping towards the door, waving him bye as he exited, most likely to his dorm on campus.

Blood froze in his veins. Gundam’s heart pounded, throbbing in his ears. His face was beyond red, and his stiffened fingers twitched in surprise. Mouth opening and closing like a fish, he could not even will his feet to carry him after the boy. What… What just… happened? His mind felt as slow and sluggish as if it was buffering through a torrented movie file. 

Finally gathering enough control of his own limbs, he pulled himself through the door. He wanted desperately to give chase, to pull Souda into his arms and kiss him back, but he knew there was no possible way he would keep his courage. So he settled, simply deciding upon returning to his own abode. He would have to speak to Souda at their meeting tomorrow. Just thinking about it gave him… butterflies? Oh dear, what an unpleasant sensation.

. . .

Thank you @kazudam for writing with me! This was so much fun, and something I’ve always wanted to do :’)